Desperate and divine
by Antigone2
Summary: After five years of pining Usagi wants to take matters into her own hands.
1. Chapter 1

Hi lovelies!  
First I want to get this out of the way: this fic is a romance like usual, but it's rated M. That means it's for adults only (so, if you are under 18 do me a huge favor and please please click the back button. I promise I'll still be writing gen to teen rated fics as I write this one so you won't be missing out. Click the back button and let me sleep at night. Thank you dears!).

Also! For those of you who are of-age but don't want to read smut - I totally get ya and I'll check you on the next fic!  
For those interested: I don't think this will get any racier than your basic bookstore romance novel. Everyone is of-age and consent is a thing.

Thanking people by name is always weird on a citrus fic, but anyway thanks you know who are you for your help. Hell sure is gonna be fun.

* * *

Usagi's decision to attempt to seduce Mamoru Chiba into a one night stand was actually quite out of character, considering the circumstances.

After all, she'd spent the past five years - ever since the final battle with Queen Beryl - trying her utmost best to push her feelings for him aside. After the first few desperate (and, in hindsight, cringe-worthy) attempts to make the skeptical upperclassman believe he was her reborn true love, Usagi had finally conceded it was a hopeless cause.

"Look at this way: would _you_ believe you?" Ami had reasoned, gently.

Luna had been able to return the girls' memories. "Just in case, of course," she'd said, though no further threat to the planet had appeared. Usagi had fallen happily into the warm embrace of her dearest friendships, which at least made giving up Mamoru just slightly less difficult.

Except when he came up in conversation now and then.

"You could try to win him over just as you," Minako encouraged one day. "After all, he fell for you once."

Usagi had sighed, leaning her head on her hand and munching mindlessly on a cookie from the plate in front of her. "He fell for Sailor Moon."

Makoto raised her eyebrows at Ami who shrugged in a 'what are you gonna do'? kind of way.

"You realize _you_ were Sailor Moon, right? You can't be _that_ stupid," Rei had supplied, helpfully.

"Sorta the point, though, isn't it?" Usagi had sighed, falling backward onto Rei's decorative pillows and ignoring the cookie crumbs that scattered about the floor. "Maybe it's best to just leave him alone, in a world where he doesn't have some reborn princess to save, where he doesn't have to keep taking hits for me."

"But-"

"He _died in my arms_ , Rei," Usagi interrupted. " _Twice_." And the look on her face was enough to make her friends quickly change the subject.

So Usagi went on, pretending with all her might that she was fine with things as they were.

That she was _fine_ with the fact that Mamoru didn't remember their battles as Tuxedo Kamen and Sailor Moon. That he didn't remember that he'd been there with her from the very beginning of it all, fumbling through the whole superhero business together, with nothing between them and the ground but a solid grip and a transformed umbrella. That he didn't know their civilian selves used to tease each other mercilessly in a way that couldn't be flirting, that couldn't have meant anything, except when it did. Except when thinking of the next come-back for 'that jerk Mamoru' kept her up at night instead fear and the way the monsters screamed when the tiara exploded within them. Except when she'd realized he was in trouble and she needed to help. Except when he'd been kidnapped by the Dark Kingdom and suddenly his absence from the streets outside the arcade felt like a gaping wound.

Except when he told her to run away and live her life without him. 'Get a cool new boyfriend, and leave me here to die.'

Sure. Of course. That's _fine. Everything is_ just _fine.  
_

Forget the prince, forget that ancient love story that ended in fire and blood. She loved _Mamoru,_ as he was here and now. Even with the blank look of nonrecognition in his eyes the first few times she spoke to him after it all ended.

Still, it didn't take long for her to get burnt out on all her attempts to get him _remember,_ to see her as more than some crazy girl who wouldn't shut up about past lives or tuxedos or the moon.

So she stopped trying. She just let it go. He let it drop too, and they managed to fall into a pattern coexistence that depended on her loving him and doing her best to pretend she didn't.

For years.

It hadn't been easy by any stretch of the imagination (and Usagi had a pretty good imagination) (and also abhorred things that weren't easy). Especially when girlfriends would come in (and very quickly out) of the picture with a vague irregularity. ("He has a type," Minako observed once. Usagi had silenced her with a glare.)

So all in all, the announcement of her plan to offer to spend the night with Mamoru, no-strings-attached (the plan which was certain to completely undo all the progress she had made in the arena of _not_ being a heartbroken mess) wasn't exactly met with enthusiasm from her friends.

"Are you fucking crazy?"

To say the least.

"No, Rei," Usagi snapped, and then paused, considering. "Okay, maybe a little."

"What are you gonna do, fuck his memories back?" Minako said, expression changing from shock to grudging respect as she spoke.

"No!" Usagi flushed at Minako's choice of words. "Jeeze, what… no, that's not. It has nothing to do with that."

"Then what?" Rei challenged. "What good could possibly come of this?"

Minako smirked and whispered something to Makoto who raised her eyebrows chidingly even while biting back a giggle. Usagi pretended not to notice.

"Okay, Usagi," Minako said, turning serious, "I'm all for one night stands-"

Rei threw her a disapproving look. "You are 19, how many one night stands could you have possibly had?"

"Anyway," Minako said, ignoring Rei, "I'm usually all for this sort of thing, but I'm worried that-"

"Is this because he's leaving?" Ami interrupted, looking at Usagi with dawning understanding.

Usagi's quiet nod was completely overridden by the other girls' surprised reactions.

"Leaving? Where?" Makoto asked, taken aback.

"America."

"For how long?" Minako leaned forward, brows knitting.

"I don't know. How long is med school?" Usagi sighed, leaning back.

Ami put her hand on Usagi's shoulder. "It may be just a year long fellowship," she said, "I only heard from Motoki and I was fuzzy on the details. Did you want me to ask him?"

"No, it doesn't matter," Usagi said. "One year, three, seven, forever - it doesn't make a difference. Once he's gone from the arcade and cafe, and doesn't hang out with Motoki or study with Ami every so often, well, that's it. That's our connection. I'll never see him again and I'm- stop looking at me like that you guys I'm _fine._ I've come to terms with it."

"But won't this... idea of yours just throw your heart right back into that blender?" Makoto asked, to the nods of the others.

Usagi sighed, running her fingers through the ends of her pigtails, not looking at her friends. "My heart has been in a blender at high speeds since middle school," she finally admitted, softly. "This can't make it worse. I just want to have _something_ before I say goodbye to him forever. A memory. Like this one thing no one else can claim, I guess."

"Your V-card," Minako nodded knowingly, taking obvious glee at the term "V" even as everyone else cringed and Usagi made a face.

"Virginity is a social construct created by the patriarchy," Rei tutted, pulling her soda toward her, "Just so you know."

"Not if it's related to _emotions_ ," Makoto said, not unkindly.

"I don't even c-" Usagi huffed, her bangs lifting from her forehead with an exasperated breath. "I knew you guys wouldn't understand."

"I get it," Minako said. "The man is hot and you want to hit that. It's your right, after all. What with everything you've been through you should totally get something out of it."

"Minako, I'm not sure it's as simple as all that," Ami said.

Usagi gave a half shrug. "She's not wrong."

"What makes you so sure he'll even go for it?" Rei pointed out and Usagi shrugged again.

"Nothing. I don't. I mean, the point is I'm gonna _try_ to make him want to say _yes_ ," she said. Then paused, lost in thought for a moment.

Truth was, she had no earthly idea how any of this was going to go. Mamoru was certainly friendly toward her, in his own way. Although he teased her, still, they'd both grown up enough it was less antagonistic and more just the way they related to each other. They'd talked enough that she'd definitely call them, well, if not 'friends' then at least 'people on friendly terms with each other'. He'd even confided in her about his parents, although she'd already known from before. But none of that lead her to any clues on how'd he react to her proposal...

"I'm in." Minako's voice cut into Usagi's thoughts like a hot knife through butter.

"In?" Usagi looked a bit concerned. "What do you mean by i-"

"Operation Turn Usagi Into a Sex Goddess No one Can Possibly Turn Down is a go!"

Four faces turned to Minako in horror.

"No. No, it's not," Usagi hurriedly removed herself from the booth, squirming past an annoyed Rei in a tangle of arms and legs. "I'm sorry I said anything!"

"When are you gonna put the wheels into motion for this dastardly deed?"

"Don't ever use the word 'deed' to refer to sex in my hearing again, Minako," Rei said through grit teeth. Ami nodded her agreement.

Usagi shook her head, "I... I was just kidding! Ha ha! What a joker, ol' me."

"Uh-huh," Minako deadpanned.

"Bye," Usagi rolled her eyes and turned to leave when a warm hand curled around her wrist.

"Usagi," Makoto said, and smiled, warmth in her soft green eyes. "We are here for you. No matter what happens. If you go through with it, if it helps, if it makes it worse, whatever happens. Come to us to cry, okay?"

"No details, though," Rei shook her head and Minako gave her a look that obviously said she expected the exact opposite.

Usagi couldn't help a small smile, the first genuine one she'd given for days.

"Thanks, guys."

* * *

 **Three weeks later**

"Jeeze, take off your clothes."

Usagi frowned and turned toward her doorway. "Excuse you, Mina-P?"

"Luna told Artemis you said you were sleeping over Rei's tonight," Minako said, meaningfully. "We know that's not true," she whispered, raising a brow. "So I came over as soon as I could, to save you from leaving the house in some stupid get-up that you read about in a magazine and heaven knows I was right." She shook a finger in the air. "That ridiculous outfit you have on. Take it off. Now."

Usagi looked at her clothing - revealing and shiny - and pouted a little, "I got this in Shibuya," she muttered and Minako tsk'ed, walking in and closing the door behind her.

"And back to Shibuya it goes, as soon as you get changed into this," the taller blonde said, tossing a bag at Usagi.

Usagi pulled the fabric out of the bag. "Your blue dress from middle school?" Usagi held it up. "It's too small."

"Nope. It's perfect on you. Just a little tight in the chest and short on the leg. And are we planning a seduction, or not?" Ignoring Usagi's blush and sputtering ("We?!"), Minako started poking through the bottles and tubes on Usagi's dresser. "Trust me on the dress length. Mamoru's a leg guy."

"How'd you know?" she shot a sharp look at Minako before pulling the dress over her head.

"Because I'm observant." She lowered her voice, "And he is not as subtle as he thinks he is." Turning back to Usagi, Minako held an obviously newly purchased tube of lipstick out accusingly. "Red? Really? And it's not even a 24 hour one, in what universe is that a good idea? You tryin' to stain everything he owns?"

"Hey I just bought that!" Usagi protested, but Minako just tossed her a small pot of Usagi's favorite pink strawberry lip balm.

"Wear this instead. Really, this is just common sense," Minako said.

Brushing her hands down the front of the dress, Usagi examined herself in the mirror and frowned approvingly. The dress did cling a bit to her chest, giving her the illusion of actual breasts. Minako was right - it was awfully short. But short skirts had never been an issue for Usagi, nearly every day between April and October that wasn't a school day saw her in a mini skirt.

"You want to look like you," Minako said, swirling a soft brush into some powder foundation before gently applying to Usagi's face. "I know, because otherwise you'd just use the disguise pen to be some sexy co-ed."

A smile pulled at Usagi's lips, "Yeah."

"But you with some killer sexy underwear, right?"

"Well, yeah."

Minako grinned. "I trust you there."

Usagi pondered her reflection, pulling on a strand of hair curling by her ear. Minako's support was actually... really comforting. She was nervous as all hell. 'He's leaving anyway, what's the worst that could happen?' she told herself, careful not to imagine Mamoru calling the police on her, or knocking on his door only for it to be answered by his actual date for the evening, or being laughed back out onto the street the second she made her intentions known.

"Think I should change my hair?" she asked, listing her head to the side.

Minako actually laughed out loud before she said, "Absolutely not, you adorable idiot."

Before she left, Minako gave her a tight hug and a box of condoms. "Good luck," she winked.

"I'll need it!" Usagi answered back.


	2. Chapter 2

This chapter is decidedly nsfw. You've been warned. I've rated accordingly. If you know what are you about, then continue. And I'd LOVE reviews.

Thanks to my beta reader for her immoral support. :-P

* * *

Getting there was a blur, Usagi had only been to Mamoru's place a couple times (all in group settings) but somehow she remembered the way like it'd been programmed into her. She didn't even realize what she was doing until she was already knocking on the door.

In the moment before he answered, Usagi panicked. "What am I doing here?" she murmured to herself, and was actually half turned away when the door opened.

"Usagi?" And he was looking at her, taken aback and slightly concerned. "Is everything okay?"

"Heh, hi," she arched her shoulders in a little shrug with a sheepish smile. He smiled back, still looking a little confused, and her heart clenched. She'd always loved that damn smile. Screw it. She'd earned this. "I'm fine but... Can I come in?"

"Sure, of course," he stepped back to let her in and she ducked a little coming through the door, shrugging off her jacket and slipping off her shoes.

She'd been there before, but the atmosphere was different when it was just the two of them, couched in the quiet and dim, city noises muffled and far away. There were boxes strewn around the floor in various places, Usagi looked away from them, internally scowling. Why couldn't he just stay in Tokyo? And let them keep orbiting each other, in different pathways and different groups but always just close enough... well. At least his moving away was forcing her to show her hand. Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe once he was gone, she'd get over him.

Ha.

"Do you want anything to drink?" Mamoru was saying, "Water, coffee? Actually, that's all I have..."

'Too bad, a shot of vodka would be great right about now,' she thought. Then again, alcohol and Usagi were always a disastrous combination. Hard to be seductive when you can't walk steadily.

"I'm fine, thanks." Usagi put her purse down on the end table by the sofa, an act that seemingly took all her concentration. "You sure your girlfriend won't mind me here like this?"

"What girlfriend?" he said, confused again, and Usagi gave him a quick smile.

"Never mind," she said, lightly. "Just making sure," she muttered under her breath.

Taking a deep breath, Usagi sat on the sofa and put her hands in her lap, primly.

"So... what's going on?" Mamoru sat next to her, leaving a good four or five inches between them. "Did you need something?"

Usagi was sure somewhere Minako was face palming at the missed opportunity to answer with some double entendre, but her mind tended to go blank when faced with those eyes. Why did he have to be so good-looking? She'd love him even without that obnoxiously handsome face, and she'd probably have much more of a chance with him if she could think straight while looking at him.

Life was unfair sometimes.

"I need you to do me... a favor?" she said, clenching her fists for a moment and psyching herself up as best she could.

"Sure, what?"

And she just went for it. Because honestly, what's the point of having the longest legs of any five foot tall person she knew if you couldn't swing yourself over and straddle the object of your affection in one fluid movement? His eyes widened as Usagi locked her knees on either side of his legs and braced her hands on the cushion behind him. "Spend the night with me."

It was a full five seconds of silence before he managed a strangled, "What?"

"You're leaving," Usagi said, still not backing away (he had ample opportunity to push her back, and hadn't, so she took that as a good sign), "we won't see each other for ... well, maybe ever, and I want you." When it doubt: honesty.

Well, half-honesty. She knew better than the use the word "love."

"I promise I won't ask anything else of you," she said, "I just want one night with you, to be with you..."

Her nails pulled a little at the upholstery, the feeling of his thighs beneath her was a little too nice, and she was feeling a little fuzzy. 'This is ridiculous', she thought, 'who is seducing who anyway?!' Literally all the man had to do was sit there in shock and Usagi was turned on. Yes, life was _exceedingly_ unfair.

Mamoru moistened his lips, eyes darting down and then up again in a movement she definitely caught ('fist pump for the dress, I guess,' she thought).

"Um...," he worked his jaw, "I-" he trailed off with no apparent inclination to continue. His shock was understandable. She'd had weeks to prepare, he was caught off-guard, she got that. But hell if she wasn't ready to move this along.

She lowered her head so her forehead brushed against his and was stricken all at once by his scent: spicy warm and deeply familiar - and utterly disarming. "Can I kiss you?" she murmured, interpreting the slight movement of his head as a nod.

Usagi barely brushed her lips against his before his hand suddenly caught the side of her face, pressing her closer in one quick and surprising movement. Mamoru's lips were warm and dry and urgent against hers - and Usagi felt the slight slip of her lipbalm between them, sweet and scented. She let her hands fall from the couch to his shoulders, her fingertips brushing against the short hairs along his neck.

His other hand moved to her waist, hot against the fabric, pushing just slightly. "Wait," he murmured, leaning away from her mouth and moving his other hand from her face to her waist, this time pushing her back further, enough so he could stand up and step a few feet away. Usagi stifled a disappointed groan and fell back into a seated position, crossing her arms and legs and pouting. Mamoru quickly looked away, running a hand through his hair. "Goddammit," he muttered.

"What?" she demanded, sitting up straighter, her heart in her throat.

"I'm not sure... I don't think... this is a good idea."

Oh god. Him and his fucked up moral compass. Breaking into jewellery stores and crashing embassy galas was a-okay but apparently sex with a consenting adult had him thinking consequences.

"So don't think," she said, standing up and walking to him. "Thinking just makes things more complicated!"

For a moment a smirk ghosted across his mouth. "Your life motto, Odango Atama?" Mamoru finally turned to look at her, and his eyes were too fond for her to take offense.

"So what if it is?" She said. "It's served me well!" Maybe.

He smiled again, but it faded slowly as he let out a breath.

"Do you want me to go?" she said, looking up at him through her lashes with a soft pout. It was a tweak on the look that got even her prickliest of friends to agree to her requests... she may have attempted to sex it up a little. The results of the experiment would have to speak for themselves.

He swallowed, looking away. "I think it's for the best, yeah."

 _Oh_.

Usagi had never felt more like a stupid kid. Why did she think she could pull of some sultry seductress role? Maybe she should've used the disguise pen. Or at least the red lipstick. A flash of anger ignited in her stomach and she pushed at his chest slightly until he looked down at her.

"You know, I'm aware I'm not, like, gorgeous, but I'm... I'm..." she pressed her hands to her sides and fought the downward tug of her mouth, "cute and pretty and! I'll have you know lots of guys confess to me!"

"I don't doubt it."

"So what's the problem?" She said, hands balled in fists. "I'm, like, literally throwing myself at you, this is not a chance you are going to get again." This wasn't exactly how it was supposed to go, how did she end up _arguing_ with him instead of convincing him?

"Jeeze - if you have to - Pretend I'm someone else!" Usagi was only half joking.

With a short, humorless laugh, Mamoru fell heavily onto a soft chair. "Right," he said, flatly. As if he hadn't spent the past few years and countless failed dates trying to keep from imagining exactly the opposite.

Usagi thought about giving up while she still had a shred of dignity left, of running out to Minako's and crying, or at least finding some all night bar and getting shitfaced or... something.

"You are gorgeous, by the way," Mamoru muttered, and in surprise she turned back toward him. He was still not looking at her, seated with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. "I just thought you should know."

He sounded so sad that Usagi's expression softened, and she released a breath she didn't know she was holding. "Hey, listen-" she started, gently, kneeling in front of him and putting one hand on his arm. She opened her mouth to let him know she wasn't angry at him, and that she understood his decision.

But the words died in her throat when he looked up at her with a tortured expression, his hands clasped in a tight ball. Behind his stormy eyes, Usagi knew a battle was raging and she quietly let him work it out, her heart pounding. Finally, he spoke. "You . . . you can stay, if you're sure you want to."

 _Wow._ She felt relief - and something else, too. A sliver of heat winding through her belly at the look in his eyes.

Usagi moved her hand to his face, the heat of his skin against her palm sending a ripple across her ribcage. "It's okay to want this, Mamoru," she assured him, "Trust me." He may not know -would _never_ know-how far back they go, how entwined their fates, and how perfectly they fit, were _meant_ to fit. But she did.

This was necessary, this was inevitable. This was _right._

She kissed him, lightly, shifting her body closer. His mouth opened under hers, the tension dispersing from his shoulders as she ran her fingers down his neck, slipped them under the neckline of his shirt. Somehow his hands ended up around her waist, pulling her up and into his lap. Their kiss grew heated, his tongue hot and slick in her mouth, and she found herself matching pace with him, her own tongue exploring his mouth - testing reactions to stroking, sucking - unable to stop.

Usagi felt the hitch in his breath as she skimmed her hand down his chest, resting her fingertips on his belt buckle. His hands had stayed around her waist, not straying from their place. Still, the feel of his fingers along her back and belly was making her ache for more. This was infuriating. _He_ was infuriating. Usagi was sick of wanting.

With one quick moment, she moved her hands to his and pushed them down her sides over the hem of her dress until his hands were pressed just above her knees. The heat of his palms on her skin made her gasp out loud, even as she guided his hands up, slowly skimming along her thighs.

His lips fell open, his breath coming fast and ragged, eyes half lidded and watching her with an aching desperation that made Usagi wonder why she wasn't just completely bursting in flames.

"You can touch me," she whispered, confirming, "it's okay."

And that was all it took, really.

He cursed out loud, startling her, and dug his fingers into the flesh of her thigh, arching up to her and kissing her deeply. She braced her hands on his shoulder and chest, no longer needing to guide him - his hands gently but fervently groping her legs, her bottom, until his fingers were pushing aside the fabric of her panties and suddenly she was gasping in his ear, gripping his shoulder as his fingers teased inside her.

"God-," Usagi said, shutting her eyes as ribbons of aching desire undulated through her belly, all in tune to the movement of his fingers. "You- this-," the words she was searching for flew out of her mind, her breath in puffs of air against his neck, his scent and heat overwhelming her. "Not.. fair..." she managed and his laughter was a throaty breath of air against her ear.

"Not fair, Odango Atama?" he murmured, voice thick and unsteady. "'Not fair' like those skirts you wear to the arcade?" He hummed against her neck. "Shall I show you 'not fair', sweet Usagi?"

Was he joking? She couldn't tell. She didn't even care. Dimly, she became aware she was already fumbling with his belt buckle. His free hand moved to help her unbuckle and unzip, and his fingers curled over hers along the heat of his growing hardness even as he continued to tease her with his other hand. His response was a low growl in the back of his throat, a curse uttered under his breath.

Pleasure was building up in Usagi to explosive levels with each brush of his thumb against her clit, so much that she didn't realize she had her mouth open, teeth digging just slightly into his t-shirted shoulder. Going into meltdown, her hand stilled on his erection and he picked up slack himself. She pulled on the fabric of his shirt and cried out, her mouth against his neck. Little by little he slowed the movement of his fingers in her, finally pulling his hand back.

Wild-eyed, she gasped at him. "Jeeze, don't _stop_ ," she cried, and he responded with a slow smile.

"So, tell me about all those boys who confess to you..." Mamoru said softly, and she recognized the teasing smirk pulling on his mouth. Teasing her! God, he was always _always_...

She ground against him, moaning, and caught the shudder of response in his body. "Okay, okay!" she said, breathless and desperate. "Fatally flawed...," she fumbled for his hand, guiding it back toward the heat between her legs, "all of them... because... they are ... not you...," even as she ground out the words he'd started the movements again, and she squirmed and arched against him as stars burst behind her eyes, not even realizing she was crying out his name until her throat protested the burn.

Then she fell against his shoulder, gasping as the afterglow racked across her body. She wasn't completely stated - her desire had dimmed to a dull smolder. And Mamoru was tense against her, his breath still shallow. She glanced down, at his hand wrapped around himself and reached down, curling her fingers around it again, "S-sorry-"

There was that laugh again, that fond look.

"Stop," he managed, pushing her hand away and meeting her gaze with glazed but intense eyes. "I can make it to the bedroom."

Usagi's legs were shaking as he helped her to a standing position. Passing the table, Usagi grabbed her purse with Minako's condoms safely tucked inside, a moment of sanity before the bedroom door closed behind them.

* * *

to be continued...


	3. Chapter 3

So I wasn't going to post this until I had the next part written (or at least started) but real life has been insane, I've been sick for a few days, and time sort of got away from me and I realized it'd been longer than I thought since I'd updated this. I wanted to get it out there. The next part is forthcoming!

As always thanks to my beta/partner in crime/dirty-word thesaurus. WRITE YOUR WORDS :-P

* * *

Usagi stood the sidewalk in her Juuban High uniform, frowning at the paper in her hands. Over her shoulder, Mamoru saw the red 56 circled in the corner and the words were leaving his mouth before he could stop them, "Well, it's better than usual, Odango Atama."

Usagi jumped half a foot in the air, whipping around so fast he had got a face full of her hair for a split second. "Jeeze, Mamoru, mind your own business," she said, obviously embarrassed. She shoved the test in her bag. "Ugh." As much as she loved the man, she had to admit there were times he could be... well, so _Mamoru_ about everything. The old pattern of teasing was at least a comfortable one, and since they'd grown up a bit since her early teen years, it'd become more friendly banter than anything else. At least, she thought so.

Mamoru almost responded with the fact that she was hanging out on a public street practically waving the paper in the air - it wasn't like he'd looked through her bag for pete's sake. But something about the annoyed little twist of her mouth stopped him.

"Sorry," he found himself saying. "But hey, you got more than half right." Was that encouraging? He couldn't tell, anything below a 90 was completely foreign to him.

"I gotta pass the class if I wanna graduate," Usagi admitted, "it's gonna screw up my C average." Her eyes flashed in his direction, as if daring him to disparage her GPA - she was actually pretty proud she was on course to pass all her classes.

"Well..." he put his hands in his pockets, leaned against the guardrail. "Do you want me to help you?"

He couldn't help taking a certain delight in the comic surprise that colored her features. "Help me? With English?"

"[It'd be my pleasure]," he knew he was being obnoxious, answering in English, but it was worth it for the adorable way her eyes rolled. Something pulled at the edges of his memory but faded before he could catch it- like trying to remember a dream.

"Show off," she muttered. He smirked.

"Thank you, but I'm good," Usagi said, finally. "Ami takes good care of me. She and I will kick English's butt together."

"Let me cheer you up then," he said, straightening up. As usual around her, Mamoru found himself speaking before thinking - something he wasn't used to."Feel like ice cream?"

"Always."

They sat at an outside table, people-watching while Usagi attacked her parfait, chattering between bites. Mamoru finished his espresso quickly and mostly just watched her, interjecting when he could, his sometimes sarcastic answers making her giggle around her spoon.

She was relaxed, he noticed, her smile coming readily and easily, none of the usual tension that always seemed to coil through her shoulders when he spoke to her. This was the Usagi he noticed everyone else got to experience - open and happy and refreshingly real. It was rare he got her radiance directed at him like this, and it always made Mamoru feel like he was looking at the sun.

"Hey, Tsukino!" A large group of teens dressed in the Juuban High uniforms were passing by cafe and Usagi waved at them. A few broke off the group and walked toward their table.

"This your boyfriend, Tsukino?" A boy asked. It was barely noticeable, the slight tensing of her smile, but Mamoru caught it. A cloud covering the sun.

"Um, not that it's any of your business but no," she answered, shooting Mamoru an apologetic look before turning back to her friends. "Hold on Naru-chan and everyone, I'll join you."

She pulled out her wallet, even as Mamoru protested he could pay. "My treat," she said, putting the bills on the table. She smiled at him, chocolate still caught in the corners of her lips, afternoon sun glinting off her hair - and he was struck by the sudden and not unfamiliar desire to kiss her.

"Thanks for the company," she said, smiling. "You really did cheer me up."

She ran to catch up with her friends, linking arms easily with a red-headed girl's (Naru-chan, Mamoru guessed) and saying something that made them all laugh. Her pigtails and skirt swung in unison as she walked, and Mamoru watched her until she was out of sight. He only then realized how often his eyes trailed her- and how watching her walking away from him was an all-too-common sight.

That was the first night the dreams came.

* * *

"I'm going to be completely honest here," Mamoru said, as he lowered Usagi onto the bed, still trying to convince himself this was real, "this isn't exactly how I saw my night going."

"Sorry to ruin your exciting plans of reading about plant spores or whatever."

He raised his eyebrows in mock-offense and Usagi's mouth hooked into a sheepish half-grin. "Sorry, old habits." She wound her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a long, searing kiss, helping him push his pants down and off.

Usagi struggled a little with pulling his shirt up, catching it on his arms even has he sat up to help her. They both laughed a little when she finally got it off, tossing it aside and casting an appreciative look at his bare chest.

"You're not bad, Chiba," she murmured, running her fingers lightly across the lean muscles of chest. Hesitating only briefly, she leaned forward and lightly brushed her lips against him, darting her tongue out to taste the salty tang of his skin. Mamoru clutched the sheets in his fist, trying to think through his desire. The heat of her mouth and tongue along his collar bone certainly wasn't helping, nor were her hands as they ran along his body - unpracticed in their movements but _so_ arousing...

He'd never been more turned on in his entire life - and never had it been more important to keep his wits about him. This was _Usagi_ , she was precious, she was perfect, and he had to somehow be worthy of her, at least for a night.

Finding the zipper of her dress, he pulled it down and open, and was rewarded with the smooth heat of her skin. She pulled back to squirm out of the sleeves, and then faced him, breathless and flushed, hair coming loose and tumbling in waves across her shoulders, eyes vivid and bright as she looked at him.

He took it back. _Now_ he'd never been more turned on in his entire life.

As she watched his eyes linger over the small swell of her breasts, Usagi tried not to cringe. "I know they're not that impressive," she said, nervously catching her fingers in her tangled hair.

He gave her a look that clearly said he thought otherwise - before his eyes fell back to the incredible sight before him - breasts soft and pert, with pink nipples tantalizingly visible through the sheer fabric of her bra. "Wrong as usual, Odango Atama," he drawled, then smiled at her until she slowly smiled back. "You're perfect," he said.

With renewed confidence, she grabbed his hand and playfully put it on her chest, giggling at his reaction to the sensation of soft flesh and lace across his palm. Then she was helping him unhook the back, the bra fell off to the side and his hands explored the soft flesh, teasing her nipples with his tongue. She wiggled beneath him, catching his mouth with hers when she could, otherwise letting her lips fall on his temple, ear, shoulder, wherever she could reach. Usagi was trying to commit the taste and feel of him to memory, as he simply lost himself in the sweetness of her. His hands caught the fabric of her dress, still around her hips, and pulled at it fruitlessly.

"Mamoru-"

"You're so beautiful," he half-moaned, grinding his hips into the bed, aching for release.

The movement shook Usagi to her core, she needed him to do that to _her_ , now now _now_ and she hurried to shimmy out of her dress and toss her underwear to the side. "Condoms..." She fumbled for her purse.

Mamoru sat up, forcing himself to focus, and she handed him the foil packet.

"Okay, just a sec... ," he was obviously concentrating, the studious turn of his brow so adorable she couldn't help but giggle. He gave her a teasing look, biting back a smile. "I've never done this part before, okay?"

"Wait," Usagi sat up on her elbows, looking at him intently, "what do you mean 'this part'?" Maybe he hadn't used protection? That seemed uncharacteristically reckless. He finished with the condom and slid up so his face was over hers, their noses almost touching. He hooked his knee across her legs.

In response to her question he just raised an eyebrow toward their bodies, "This," he said, as if were obvious. "This next part, anyway."

"But-," Usagi said, curling her fingers through his hair as he ran his lips down her neck, "you've had girlfriends? Dates? I've _seen_ you with them." Her voice hitched a little as his hand glided across her stomach, down to her hip.

"Hmm," he let his other hand drift across her breast, teasing the nipple slightly with his thumb before brushing his mouth against it, "I did, yes," he said, his voice velvet, sending a pleasant shiver down her spine at the vibration, "But they were-" his fingers moved across her upper thigh, "what was the term you used? Fatally flawed? - in the end."

She shifted her legs apart and he settled himself between them, sucking air through his teeth at the feel of her slick heat against his length. "Usagi-" he shut his eyes, grit his teeth, "are you really sure?"

"Are you?" she breathed back, looking at him with wide, blue eyes. Her golden bangs were curling with the slight damp of sweat, her gaze heavy with lust, pink lips parted and panting. Mamoru couldn't imagine a sexier sight. "Since... you..."

"Yes," he murmured, unable to stop himself from sucking on the junction of her neck and shoulder, reveling in her little gasp. "I am so sure, Usagi-" 'I need this,' he realized. 'Without even knowing it, I've been waiting for this.'

Warm little hands spidered their way up his neck, curled through his hair. She arched her body up with a little moan. "Yes, god, just-" the feel of him against her was getting to be too much, what had happened previously in the living room was nothing _nothing_ compared to the spiraling thread of ecstasy dancing just out of her reach... She reached down, her hands slippery against him as she grabbed his hard length and fumbled a bit with it, rubbing where it felt good, unsure of the next step...

"H-hold on...," he stammered, his strong hand wrapping around hers, guiding himself until he was poised at her entrance.

" _Please_ ," she said, hands pulling on his shoulders, body writhing toward him. And then there was a sharp pinch that gave way to pressure that built until...

oh _god_

this was aching perfect sweet completion, her legs wrapped around his back, his ragged groan in her ear, his hands moving across her chest, her stomach, tickling her thighs and one hand moving between her legs as they arched and swayed together, the stars behind her eyes building and building. She was saying something without realizing what, just that her lips moving, his name maybe - or some combination of adjectives pulled from her throat with every thrust -"please please god you are so good so _good_ so mine so _perfect_ " and then she was drowning in tidal waves of pleasure, a fist in his hair, fingers laced through his. Her name was pulled from his throat like a mantra, his body tense as he came, then melting into her arms.

She let her head fall back, shutting her eyes against the softly undulating waves of afterglow, body still trembling slightly. He let his head fall to her shoulder, took a shaky breath. Then Mamoru mumbled, "Wow," and she couldn't help but laugh, shaking his body along with hers.

"Yeah," she agreed. "I know."

A bit later, his hands were lazily playing with her hair, when she curled toward him, knees brushing his side.

"I didn't know," she murmured, "That you were a virgin, too."

His eyes slid toward her, a half smile on his face. "Would it have mattered?"

Usagi shrugged a little, shivering as the slick of sweat evaporated off her body. "I might not have... I hope you are... fine with it all."

Mamoru laughed a little, turning to face her completely. "More than fine." He looked so relaxed, so open... it was how she'd always dreamed he'd look at her, like he knew her, like they were... actually... Usagi had to fight to keep her heart from shattering. It must have shown in her face, because suddenly Mamoru looked concerned, "What's wrong?" His hand was on her cheek, and he shifted to sit up on one arm, looking at her intently. "What-"

And she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him again, not gently. A bruising, desperate kiss, as she pressed against him, arching her breasts against his chest, her pelvis against his. 'Just for a little longer... have him be mine just that much longer...' she rolled them over so she straddled him, sat up and looked at his face, her hair falling over them like a curtain.

"This okay?" she breathed and at his nod, she kissed him again, tightening her thighs around him, rocking slightly and rubbing herself over him until she felt his arousal pushing up against her with renewed urgency.

With fumbling, clumsy fingers that made Mamoru groan with desire, she put the condom on him and positioned herself at the ready. She reached down with one hand, working on guiding him into her - still a bit clumsily, but he didn't mind her unpracticed movements - rather, each touch drove him to utter distraction. Blonde hair fell everywhere, gilding his bedsheets like gold leaf, slipping like silk along his body, filling his senses. He reached out and grabbed a fistful of it, putting it to his face and breathing in that glorious sweet scent - so familiar, so uniquely _Usagi_ , so coveted for so long. And here she was, sitting astride him, those lovely little hands sending delicious frustration racing through his body - "I think I've died and this is heaven," he mumbled, and then she smiled and he was sure.

Usagi grabbed his hand, laced her fingers through his, and pressed their hands - clasped together - back against the pillows. With the other hand she finally guided him into her - so much easier this time - how perfectly they fit together. She moved slowly at first, adjusting to the shuddering feeling of him filling her. Then she built up with each movement, faster and heavier and ... _god_. She watched as the mounting pleasure twisted his perfect facial features into an array of expressions she found so hopelessly erotic.

"Tell me," she said, her mouth to his ear, as ecstasy built up in her belly once again, "please just tell me... that you won't forget me ... that you-"

Mamoru looked at her, trying to focus his eyes, parted his lips. "I could never, ever forget you Usagi Tsukino," he managed to say, before the orgasm tearing through him stole the rest of his words.

* * *

Usagi woke with a start, the unfamiliar pattern of morning sunlight confusing her for a moment. She sat up in a hurry ('Oh no! I'm late!' - the thought was still a habit even though she had nowhere to be that day) and then in a rush the events of the previous night came back to her. They hadn't spent much time sleeping, - and went through an impressive amount of Minako's condoms, actually- and Usagi's muscles protested when she sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

Mamoru wasn't in the room, but their clothes were still strewn on the floor. Her dress looked uncomfortable so instead she gingerly picked up his t-shirt from the floor and slipped it over her head.

Padding out into the kitchen, she saw him standing looking out the window in jeans and a new shirt, a fresh mug of coffee in his hand. For a moment she just looked at him, trying not to let a sigh escape her lips. No doubt about it, she'd miss him. For a moment her entire life stretched out before her in sad monochrome - years and years without her soulmate.

"'Morning."

He turned and smiled, but it was a different smile in the light of day. "Good morning, sleepy head. How are you?"

"Sore," she said, and he laughed a bit into his mug, "and hungry." Usagi made a face, looking around the sparse kitchen. "Got anything to eat?"

"No, I don't have much food in since..."

"Since you're moving," Usagi supplied, giving him a quick smile. "Makes sense."

"Listen, Usagi-" he paused, ran an agitated hand through his hair. "I leave in a few days. I have my tickets, I have my place at the school, I can't... I..."

She held up her hand, interrupting him. "Don't worry, Mamoru, I told you last night - no strings. I'm not asking you for anything." She touched her head and made a face. "Except maybe a hairbrush?"

Usagi spent a while in the sanctuary of the bathroom, the din of the shower allowing her an indulgence of a few heaving sobs before she turned off the water and stepped out, and focused solely on the task of fixing her dress and hair enough she was fit for being seen in public.

"Did you want go get breakfast out?" Mamoru asked, when she finally emerged.

"Nah... I should probably go..."

"I can drive you somewhere," he said. "Home or...?"

"Rei's," Usagi supplied. "Thanks." There was a beat.

"Usagi, I can write you," He took a step forward. "I can visit. We can- we can keep in touch and maybe .. when I get back..."

"Were you even planning on coming back?" Usagi asked, brows knitting. Last time she'd talked to him about it, at the cafe with Motoki, he'd said the scholarship was open-ended, and Mamoru wasn't opposed to emigrating if the possibility presented itself.

"Well, I wasn't sure, but now-"

"Now what?" she said, shaking her head. "Nothing's changed."

"Usagi, _everything's_ changed," he said, putting his coffee down and reaching for her, curling his fingers back when she flinched away.

Usagi shook her head, her heart dropping. No, _no_. Losing him once would've been enough but she'd lost him _three_ times already and her heart couldn't take dragging this out. He was on the road to have a safe, normal life that didn't include her and she'd selfishly put that in jeopardy with her stupid sentimentally. And hormones. Inwardly, she cursed herself. And him, for good measure.

"Mamoru - I...," she swallowed. "I like you. You aren't bad... for a stuck-up nerd," she teased. He didn't smile. She turned around and poured herself a mug of coffee, just to give her hands something to do. "But... we are not... we don't make sense. Together."

"Then how come-" he paused and then continued after a breath, "how come I dream about you?"

Usagi's hands froze on the mug, and she didn't turn around.

"How come I remember strange things ... feelings, really. Sensations." Falling, catching, cold wind in his lungs and a grateful smile. Pain, blood, and love so intense it crippled him. "They _almost_ make sense before they are snatched away. You and me... "

"I don't know what you are talking about."

" _You_ were the one who told me, back when we were younger. You said we fought evil together, you said we had a past life-" he reached for her arm and she turned abruptly, snatching it away.

"Mamoru, I was fourteen! I had a crush," she shrugged and spread her arms wide. "I made it up. It was nothing." Usagi felt like a bucket of cold water had been thrown over her head. He was remembering. He was _remembering_? No. He was _leaving._

Too little. Too late.

Mamoru looked at her, his gaze searching and not a little confused. Usagi felt her heart tear a little, her hands shaking so much she had to put her mug down and clutch her hands together.

"I am glad we had last night," she said, forcing a smile on her trembling lips. "But this should be a clean break." She leaned up and kissed his cheek and he let his hand trail her arm as she stepped back. "I'll walk to Rei's," she said, grabbing her jacket.

"Wait-"

"Go to America," she gave him a half-smile. "Go find yourself a cool girlfriend. Be happy."

"Usagi-"

She turned quickly, before the tears fell. "Just forget about me, okay? Please."

"I told you, I could never forget you."

Usagi slipped on her shoes didn't speak until her hand was on the doorknob. "Trust me," she said, softly. "It's easier than you think."

* * *

At the shrine, Rei was waiting with a change of clothes and tea. Usagi curled into her best friend's incense-scented hug, letting Rei's graceful fingers brush through her hair, and sent silent thanks to her for being kind enough to not to say 'I told you so.'

* * *

don't worry it's not over!


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks so much to my illustrious beta and also everyone who reviewed or commented - wow! thank you so much!  
I hope this part is fun and you enjoy it!

* * *

 **Two years later**

"Oh wow, it looks like something out of a fairy tale!" Usagi cried, leaning forward to peer out of the window in amazement at the European-style mansion that appeared as if by magic when Makoto turned the van down the hidden drive.

"Or a horror movie," the brunette said darkly and Usagi erupted into giggles.

"Don't be nervous, Mako-chan!" she said, "If anyone tries to chase us with an ax, we can distract them with those amazing shrimp puffs."

"I thought told you to stop eating the party food!" Makoto said, unable to stop her smile even as she lectured. Usagi shrugged sheepishly.

Even though Usagi herself would be the first to agree she didn't seem the best choice for a catering assistant, Makoto had to admit that, if nothing else, Usagi's cheerful attitude and unwavering confidence in her was always helpful. Makoto had only just started her catering company, and this was one of her first events. Usagi, the only of her friends not in university, was a welcome tagalong. Although the small blonde's cooking skills had not improved, Usagi had taken to plating and setting up with a surprising flare. Until she got some more real staff hired, Makoto was happy for the help.

As they were unloading the van by the kitchen doors with the aid of the hired waitstaff, a mustachioed foreign man caught Makoto's eye and waved her over. "That's Mr. Edwards," she hissed to Usagi, handing her a container of pico de gallo to carry inside. The owner of the mansion was a well-known eccentric, and apparently threw these sort of university galas with surprisingly regularity.

"He looks pretty much like I imagined," she said, grinning. Then, "good luck!" as Makoto ran up to talk to him.

Usagi was already busily arranging crostini on a tray when Makoto walked into the kitchen. "What did he say? Anything neat?" Her hair was already looped through itself and tucked beneath a hairnet, an apron with the name of Makoto's company embroidered across it fit snugly over the black skirt and white blouse she wore. For a moment, Makoto was taken by her friend's adaptive ability - Usagi looked every inch the professional caterer - even though Makoto knew Usagi could burn water.

"Uh... not really," she said. She opened another container and began to help Usagi plate.

It wasn't like Makoto to be silent for so long and Usagi looked up at her in curiosity. "Something wrong?"

"Just, um," Makoto was concentrating very hard on filling mushroom caps, "well, it turns out Mr. Edwards picked me based on the recommendation of someone we know."

"Okay," Usagi said, sending a quizzical expression her way. She wasn't surprised, in high school Makoto was always baking and cooking, handing snacks and treats out as if she'd adopted the entire teen population of Juuban and was charged with keeping them well fed. She was sure out of all of her friends, Makoto was the most remembered of their high school peers, if only for her lemon bars. Well, her lemon bars and perfect rack. "And?"

"It's Mamoru," Makoto said, still not looking up from the food, "I guess he's back in town."

Usagi let out a little breath and nodded. Oh. That explained why her friend was acting so weird. "It's okay, Makoto," Usagi said. "I know he's back."

Makoto looked up sharply. "You know?"

She nodded, turning back to spooning pico de gallo, "He's been back for a few months now. Going to med school in Minato."

"How'd you know?"

"I have my ways," Usagi said mysteriously, raising her eyebrow. Then she giggled and shrugged, "I ran into Motoki. He gave me a huge update."

"And?"

With a sigh, Usagi put down her spoon and faced her friend. "Mamoru's fellowship in America ended and he chose to come back here for medical school proper. He's been settling in, and I think Motoki said he never got around to ending the lease on his old place so he might still live there? That was pretty much all I got without looking suspicious and pumping for info."

"Well, has he contacted you or... at least... I mean," Makoto wasn't sure where to go with this. Mamoru was back? Then why hadn't he showed up at Usagi's door with two dozen red roses and an engagement ring and a pledge of his undying love? Why wasn't she catering Usagi's wedding right now instead of a university gala? Why-

"Motoki said something about him asking after me," Usagi said, "but it was kind of vague. I mean, it's not like Mamoru can just knock on my parents' door and ask Daddy where I moved to," she smirked a little at the image. "Plus, Motoki talks to him but-"

"But Motoki wouldn't pass on your contact information without your permission," Makoto said, nodding in understanding.

"Anyway, I don't mind," Usagi said, "Motoki probably would've said, but for all I know Mamoru could have a serious girlfriend now or something. I told him no strings, I'm not going to demand face time almost two years later just because we slept together one night."

It was painfully clear to Makoto how forced Usagi's nonchalance was - had always been- about Mamoru. After that night, Usagi hadn't seen him again before he'd left, even though Motoki had thrown a causal little good-bye party at the arcade, Usagi pretended to be sick and stayed home playing video games the entire night with Minako. Rei and Makoto made an appearance at the party to say good-byes, but Ami was the only one who really spent time with Mamoru that night - giving him the 'safe travel' charm they'd gotten for him. Afterward she said he'd seemed fine, if a little subdued - which could only be expected of someone about to leave everything they ever knew for an unknown period of time. "But I don't know him that well," she'd added, with a shrug.

Usagi, though, they knew. And although she pretended to be cheerful about it, ("I wanted a night together with him before he left, and that's exactly what I got, how could I be upset?"), they all knew she was hurting. But, outside of getting on a plane and dragging Mamoru home by his collar (a tempting but unfeasible plan) there wasn't much they could do.

"Well, you might get that face-to-face anyway," Makoto said, after a moment. "Edwards said he'd be here tonight." 'And I think it may not have been my culinary skills alone that got me this gig, either,' she added silently.

That, clearly, Usagi did not expect. She pressed her lips together and glanced down at her (already stained) apron. With a quick look around at the sheltering walls of the stainless steel industrial kitchen, she nodded slowly. "Okay," she said. "I think... I might just say in the kitchen tonight after all."

Makoto's silence was nonjudgmental and kind, as they both got back to work.

"I know I should get over him," Usagi said, quietly. "I've tried. You know I've tried."

Makoto nodded. "I know."

Setting down her prep, Usagi held up her hands, wiggling her gloved fingers by her face in a perfect impression of Minako telling one of her scary stories. "It's the curse of the dead princess," she said, in a spooky voice. "I'm doomed to love none but him." She finished with a dramatic sweep of her forehead, leaving a small smear of tomato across the top of her left eye. "Oops." She giggled. "Anyway," she turned back to the plate in front of her, "I've come to terms with it. You know some people... some people go their whole lives not feeling a love like that. And I got it. Twice, in fact." She paused, thoughtful. "I'm lucky, really."

With a sigh and a shake of her head, Makoto regarded her friend for a moment in awe. "You are something else, you know that?"

"Thank you," Usagi grinned up at her.

"Now, get back to work!" Makoto said, trying to channel her inner Rei and get Usagi back into gear - they still have tons of little plates to ready before the guests arrived.

* * *

The party had been in full-swing for a while now, and every time one of the waitstaff came through the door to the kitchen, carrying the music and chatter from the ballroom with them for a brief moment, Usagi's eyes darted up and through the doors (and away from whatever her hands were doing). Makoto tried to ignore it, but when Usagi narrowly missed amputating a finger cutting strawberries, she had to draw a line.

"Usagi for pete's sake, just go out there and find him," she said, lining up champagne glasses. "Or I'll send you out with a tray, see if I don't."

"As if you'd dare," she quipped, making a face. Still, she relented to putting down the knife and sneaking with Makoto to the kitchen doors, opening them and peering through. There was a whirlwind of well-dressed twenty-somethings - Edwards had said this was an alumni mixer - talking and dancing under the sparkling chandelier light.

Makoto only had to follow Usagi's gaze to find Mamoru, standing in a small group by the corner of the room. She put her hand on Usagi's shoulder, squeezing slightly in support.

Usagi was lost just watching him. He was deep in conversation, nodding and responding to something the woman to his left said. In his black tuxedo, he looked so much like his previous alter-ego, Usagi couldn't help a dreamy sigh. He was so handsome. Still. Maybe more, actually, Usagi thought. What a jerk, how _dare_ he get even better looking. She hated him. She loved him. She wanted him. This was torture. Something in the conversation made him smile, that slow pull of his lips and lightening of his eyes making Usagi groan with vexation. "I hate him," she muttered and Makoto rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, I can tell," she muttered, and Usagi tore her eyes away from him to send Makoto a sarcastic look. The brunette straightened suddenly, pushing Usagi back into the kitchen. "He's turning this way," she said, "but I don't think he saw you." Then she awkwardly waved her hand. "Oh, he saw me, though. He's coming here," she muttered from behind her smile. "Usa- gi...?" She turned just in time to see her friend dive behind the solid metal counter.

Makoto walked over to stand next to where Usagi was sitting on the floor behind the counter, and looked down at her. "Really?" she said, Usagi opened her mouth to respond but then the kitchen doors opened again and Makoto looked up and smiled. "Hi, Chiba-san," she said.

"Makoto Kino," he said. "It's been a while."

Usagi silently melted at the sound of his voice. She put her head back against the counter, shutting her eyes and mentally wailing.

"It's so nice to see you," Makoto said, and Usagi could tell by her voice she was being sincere. "It's been a while. I didn't even know you were back in town."

Usagi looked up, but she couldn't see him from her hiding spot. She drew her knees to her chest.

"The fellowship ended and I had a few months between the semester at Keio," he was saying, "so I did some other research in the meantime."

"So you came back to Japan after all, then," she said, smiling.

There was a puff of breath and Usagi knew Mamoru was giving that half-smile almost-laugh. "Yeah. I missed it more than I thought."

"No place like home," Makoto offered.

"That's what they say."

Then Makoto thanked him for recommending her to Edwards, and he politely responded that her food was gaining lots of compliments, obvious small talk that slowly petered out.

Usagi chewed her lip as there was a moment of awkward silence between her friend and the man on the other side of the counter.

"So, anyway, yeah," Makoto said, "I'm doing well! Still friends with all the girls. We spend a lot of time together since we are all single currently." She kept her voice light. "They are all in college now. Well, except Usagi of course," she said with a little laugh.

Usagi sent a disgruntled look up to her friend. 'What do you mean 'of course'?', she thought.

"Despite Ami's best efforts, we couldn't get that girl to see the benefits of higher education," Makoto said.

Usagi put her head in her hands, groaning inwardly.

"She's doing really well, though!" Makoto continued, "After graduation she got a job fairly quickly - enjoys what she does, made enough to move out of her parent's house."

"Oh yeah? What's she doing?"

"Oh, Maid Cafe," Makoto said, and luckily her friend's peel of laughter covered up Usagi's offended gasp. "Just kidding! She does admin at Betsucomi." Mamoru must've given Makoto a blank look, but she had to explain, "The manga publisher?"

"Ah." There was a pause, "I'm glad," he said, and Usagi could tell from his voice he was smiling.

There was another moment of quiet.

"Well, I should let you get back to..., all this," Mamoru said. He knocked on the counter a couple times with his knuckles.

Makoto nodded, her ponytail bobbing behind her, even under the hairnet. "Of course. It was nice catching up with you."

But he didn't leave, Usagi heard him take a step toward the door, then rethink and turn around. "If - if you...," his voice was hesitant.

"I'll tell Usagi you said hi," Makoto's voice was kind.

"If she-, well." He slid something toward her, and Makoto took a step back before holding it out so Usagi could see. A card - his number, Usagi guessed. "I would love to hear from her."

There were exactly two footsteps toward the door before Makoto blurted out, "She's here!"

With a silent cry, Usagi hit Makoto's calf with her fist only to pull her hand back and shake it out, her face contorting in pain. 'Owwww,' she mouthed, glaring Makoto's muscular leg.

"What?" he almost whispered.

"Not here here, but," Makoto swallowed, her voice suddenly high-pitched and rambling like it always got when she had to lie, "she's out back? With the van? Anyway, she helps me out sometimes so she's... here. Tonight."

The look on his face was familiar - and Makoto realized it mirrored Usagi's, from earlier that night when she told her Mamoru would be here. "I'll send her out later," Makoto said. "But if you don't see her, come around back toward the end of the night, we'll be loading up."

"Excuse me sir," a man with an empty tray walked through the door, dodging Mamoru who nodded politely and held up his hand in farewell as he left.

"Thanks, Takashi," Makoto said, taking the tray and putting it down. "I'm gonna want to get the fruit and cheese plates out now, please. We're going to need to get someone out there to pour champagne-" she was interrupted by Usagi who stood up finally, and pushed her friend's arm slightly.

"Why'd you do that?" Usagi cried.

Makoto gave her friend a pleading look. "Usagi, you didn't see his _face_ when he asked about you," she said, lips pulling down as if she'd just witnessed a particularly adorable puppy crying in a cage. "I couldn't help it."

Usagi pouted.

"All I'm saying is-" Makoto frowned thoughtfully at the bottles of champagne.

"No."

"All I'm saying is, take off the hairnet and apron, you're helping Takashi pour the champagne."

* * *

"You okay, Chiba?"

Mamoru shook his head ruefully. It was the third time someone had asked him that since he came back from talking to Makoto. "Fine," he assured his friend, eyes drifting toward the kitchen doors.

As if on cue, Usagi exited the kitchen with a tray of strawberries, and busied herself with putting a cut strawberry in each of the empty champagne glasses set up on a side table. Beside her, a tall waiter was pouring the bubbly drink into the glasses.

'She's still so short.' The thought was a strange one, filtering through Mamoru's mind in his dazed state. He watched her lips move as she spoke to the man next to her, hands fluttering over to the glasses as she gave directions. She still moved with that unique Usagi-ish way - unrefined and accidental grace. He was mesmerized.

"Excuse me," Mamoru said, stepping away from the group. It was fruitless to attempt to hold any sort of conversation right now - every nerve and synapse in his body was responding to Usagi's relative nearness. He supposed he should be watching her with more concentration, to see if his vision of her changed now that it'd been two years apart - now that he knew she'd once saved the entire world with the same hands currently counting strawberries. But it didn't matter - she was Usagi and her effect on him hadn't changed.

That was the moment she looked up, blue eyes meeting his with a surprised blink. Then, she smiled - all little pearl teeth and pink lips - and he had to take a moment to remember how to form words.

"Hello," he said and her smile widened.

"Mamoru, hi," she said, and suddenly her body was buzzing with nervous energy - she stopped what she was doing and linked and unlinked her hands together, moistened her lips. "Mako-chan said you were here." She paused. "How are you?" Her gaze flit back to where he had been standing, to the group of people he'd been talking to most of the night. "You look like you are having fun." She tried not to think of the last time they were together, not to linger on the memory of the taste of his skin.

"I'm well," he answered. Then he paused, resting his fingertips on the tabletop.

She glanced from his hands to his face, the intensity of his gaze making her forget, for a brief moment, to breathe.

"Do you have a minute?" he asked.

"I'm working..."

"Actually, you are supposed to go on a break," Takashi said, making Usagi jump and look up at him in surprise.

"Excuse me?"

"Kino-san said I was to tell you to go take a break if he came up started talking to you," he answered bluntly, nodding toward Mamoru. Usagi sent a wide-eyed glance toward the kitchen doors, but they remained closed.

"But-"

"I think I can handle putting strawberries in a glass," he said. "Go, so I don't get in trouble."

Mamoru reached for her hand around the table. "Dance with me," he said.

She let her fingers brush against his palm as he closed his hand around hers. Even the innocent touch made her heart pound in her ears.

"Uh..." Usagi glanced at Mamoru and then down at her skirt and top - a pale comparison to the gowns and dresses the other women in the room were wearing. "I'd like to, but I don't think I'm supposed to."

"I thought you didn't think," he said, lips pulling up in a half-smile that made Usagi's heart twist. "Your life motto and all that."

Responding to his tugging on her hand, she stepped out from behind the table and stood facing him, a few feet from the corner of the room.

"It may be time to consider a different motto," she murmured, half to herself. Mamoru's other hand curled around her waist and before she knew it they were dancing, the slow ballroom type Usagi wasn't that bad at, despite her natural clumsiness. The same dancing from the embassy ball, and from the misty memories of a past life that she tried not to think about.

Then, somehow, she was so close to him, his fingers pulling just slightly on her waist, his breath stirring the hair on the top of her head. Usagi let her eyes flutter shut, breathed in his scent and slowly let her head fall against his chest, feeling it rise and fall in a shaky sigh. She enjoyed the quiet as he held her - no discussion, no bitter truths - just him, warm against her, as they swayed to the music.

For a moment she let herself daydream that she'd never given him up, that he'd never forgotten her. That she was free to whisper in his ear that she wanted to touch him, to kiss him, and maybe he'd take her somewhere private -somewhere away from the noise and music of the party and his lips would find hers in the dark, his hands skimming her thighs...and _god._ Sometimes she wished she didn't already know the feel of his mouth, the sound of his breathless moan when he gave himself over to her, filling her with that aching, blinding pleasure - it'd just haunted her, how _desperately_ she wanted him again and how stupid she was to think that one night would ever be enough, that somehow the fire inside her would just go out if she stayed away long enough.

"Usagi..." His voice was soft. He'd leaned down so his lips were at her ear, and she didn't bother to fight the pleasant shudder that ran down her spine. She looked up at him with a dreamy expression and he brushed a strand of hair back from her cheek, letting his fingertips graze the side of her ear. He'd meant to focus more, to keep his wits about him, but it was a lost cause. Touching her was panacea, as if the loneliness of the past two years could melt away with her soft warmth.

Unable to stop himself, he lifted her hand to his lips, gently brushing the tops of her knuckles with a kiss. From the outside it was a sweet, classy gesture as he thanked her for the dance, but the look in his eyes and the feel of his mouth against her skin- even in such a brief, polite manner - sent a shiver of heat through her body. Forcing herself to take a step backwards, Usagi moved her hands to his arms, gently setting some distance between them.

Unbidden, the image came to Mamoru of her flushed and sweaty beneath him, all golden hair and perfect breasts and gasps of air against his ear. That smile, her giggle, and the tangle of her legs and arms around him... it was far from an unfamiliar memory. Revisiting those moments was a strange sort of painful comfort when he was away - achingly aware of the distance between them, of every mistake and missed opportunity that lead to her being gone, and him being half a world away and alone. Of everything he'd come back to try to fix.

"Can we talk?" he said, glancing toward the balcony doors next to the dance floor. "Somewhere with less people?"

Usagi glanced toward the kitchen. She was positive Makoto would forgive her disappearing - actually, Makoto would probably be _more_ angry if Usagi didn't go with Mamoru. She swallowed and looked back at him, at the hesitant, hopeful look in his eyes. She felt a wave of nervousness, wondering what he could want to talk about.

"I don't know..." she started. But, truthfully, she knew she would go. Even if he was only going to let her down gently, tell her he had found someone else to love, Usagi could understand that. That was what she'd asked him to do after all. She'd already showed her hand the night she practically begged him to sleep with her - might as well face the music now, all these months later.

"Please," he said, then he looked right in the eyes and called her by a name she never expected to hear again. "We need to talk, Sailor Moon."

* * *

tbc!


	5. Chapter 5

This was fun! Thanks for sticking with me throughout the adventures of these two dorks in love. Writing smut is super hard (that's what she said) and I think I'm sticking to G-rated stuff for a while. But, I'm glad I tried something new (that's what she... okay, sorry). :-P  
Please let me know what you think!

* * *

"Are you sure it's okay to be here?" Usagi asked. The garden behind the mansion was beautiful, even in the relative darkness, with pathways leading through small trees and flowering bushes. Mamoru seemed to know his way around, so she walked next to him and tried not to obsess about the fact that his hand was resting on the small of her back.

"Yeah," he said, "Mr. Edwards keeps his gardens open to the public. I used to come here a lot."

She found herself inching closer to him as they walked, and he responded by pressing his fingers slightly against her back, drawing her closer still.

"Oh," Usagi said, quietly.

Finally they came to a stop by a small fountain in the middle of a stone walkway, where the babble of the water mingled with the distant sounds of the party. Mamoru didn't drop his hand from her back, and she found herself reaching up, running her fingers along the edge of his jacket, catching them on the buttons of his shirt.

"It's nice," she said, referring to the garden, although she wasn't looking at it. "Why'd you call me Sailor Moon back there?" Usagi looked up, catching his eyes. She expected him to pull away from her, but instead he was quiet for a bit, letting his eyes drift around the quiet darkness before finding hers again.

"The fellowship ended two months before the semester officially started at Keio," he said. "I had some free time to look into things."

"Things? Like what?"

"News articles - mostly on microfiche - from the days when the senshi were active. There are also internet forums - if you know where to look - with rumors and speculation. Even photographs."

"Why?" Usagi said, ignoring the words she didn't understand and focusing on the cold rush that washed over her at the ones she did.

"I think you know why."

She searched his eyes, mouth falling open just a bit.

"I had to fill in some gaps," he explained. "And every new bit of information I learned fed into a memory. Foggy at first, but it soon became clearer. I looked at world history books, too." He met her eyes. "Funny how some memories are older than others, Princess."

Usagi shivered a little, even though the night was warm. Mamoru put his other hand on her arm, running it up and down as if to warm her.

"Did you find time in between all this 'research' to do what I asked?" she lifted her chin and met his eyes. "Forget me? Find a girlfriend?"

His lips pulled back in a sardonic smile. "I did neither of those things, no," he said. "Sorry."

"I don't think you're sorry at all," she retorted, turning away slightly so he couldn't see her expression, the biting back of a smile. She had no right to be pleased, she reminded herself. Just because he was remembering... didn't mean she had any right or claim to him. Especially if he didn't know the whole truth.

"Hmmm... I don't think you're actually upset about it, either," he said. The hand on her arm moved up to her face, gently turning her toward him again and she leaned into his touch despite herself.

Usagi wasn't sure who kissed who first, just that suddenly his lips were on hers with a gentle kind of urgency. She slid her hand up to brush against the hair at the nape of his neck as the soft heat of his kiss went from gentle to passionate and her mouth opened under his. She stretched herself up, balancing on tip-toes as he supported her back with his arm. She braced her body against his, and he responded with a throaty hum of approval.

This wasn't what they were supposed to be doing- this wasn't... she knew they had to talk, that it was important to sort out this new revelation, but every time she tried to gather her self-control his tongue would slip back into her mouth and she'd be lost again, responding with the ardor of someone who'd been denied this for so long... far too long. Mamoru finally pulled away, either with the realization of their location - private but not _that_ private - or simply to gather his wits again.

Usagi swallowed, brushing her hands back through her hair. For a moment they stood, facing each other, catching their breath. "How much do you- how much do you remember?"

"Enough," Mamoru said. He turned his gaze away, balling one hand into a fist. "Enough to understand why you might... not want-" Suddenly, he took a few steps away, turned his back to her.

He remembered Sailor Moon, the feel of her in his arms as he'd bring her to safety, the awe in which he watched her defeat monsters despite her obvious fear - then there was everything from falling off a balcony to nearly tumbling down an elevator shaft. Cryptic messages and a lost locket, desperation to help her and then blinding pain. And, for every memory of her - of _them_ \- that drifted into his mind, there was the shuddering recollection of his hands around her throat. There was no change in intensity between the good and bad memories, no break from the waves of emotion that broke over him with unrelenting regularity whenever he recalled their shared past.

Needless to say, it had been an emotionally exhausting two years.

"To understand why you might not want this," he finished.

"I want this more than I've ever wanted anything," she said. "But it's not fair to ask it of you."

"Of me?" He turned and looked at her in astonishment. "Usagi, if- if you really want me to leave you alone, I will. I can go on with my life, make every attempt to live without you. I might even be reasonably fine, day to day. But don't act like you are doing me some kind of _favor_."

"Mamoru, because of me, you _died_!"

"Well, apparently it didn't take."

"It's not a joke!" she cried.

And then they stood there, facing each other and Usagi felt for all the world like it was some kind of stand-off. She watched him take a shaky breath, his adam's apple bopping slightly, hair falling a bit into his eyes. Hesitantly, she reached for his hand and he threaded his fingers through hers, the warmth that flooded through her at his touch was undeniable.

"Sorry," Mamoru said, quietly.

"You remember Sailor Moon?" Usagi asked, and he nodded. "The princess?" Another nod. "The Dark Kingdom?" He cringed and nodded and she squeezed his fingers.  
"What... what we ... you remember us?" It was a stupid way to ask it, to lay down the entire complicated web of ancient doomed love and miracle rebirth and how that mattered (or didn't) to the two teenagers arguing on the streets of Juuban.

"Yes," he said, looking at her with a heavy gaze. "I'm so sorry, Usagi-" and she shook her head, cutting off his apology.

"Don't apologize," she managed to say, almost drowning in her own guilt and sadness. "Will you kiss me again just-" and she was pulling on his jacket until he dipped his head again, and she kissed him desperately, winding her arms around his neck. This wasn't fair, it wasn't a fair thing for her to do, to pull his lower lip into her mouth, the gentle sucking making him softly moan, to slip her hands beneath his jacket, pressing her fingertips into the muscles of his back. But, oh, she wanted just a few moments to pretend everything was going to be okay, to delight in the fact that he _remembered_ her, that even before he remembered he had wanted her anyway - that maybe they had even the ghost of a chance.

"Usagi you- I-," he could barely manage to speak. It'd been too long with only his thoughts of her - and to have her _here_ and _real_ and in his arms, it was overwhelming.

He pulled her slightly away from the path, into the shadows of some trees, and then resumed their kiss with unrestrained need. She responded, again and again, reveling in the familiar taste of his mouth, the movement of his lips on hers, the sweep of his tongue over hers - igniting her nerves with blissful shudders of desire. Eventually he moved away from her lips, kissing down her neck, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair, her skin. Usagi clutched at his shoulders, her feet almost off the ground. She stumbled backward a bit, pulling him with her, and finally rested her back against a larger tree which freed her hands to move through his hair, down his chest. One of his hands was hot against her hip, the other moved to cup her breast, caressing her through the layers of clothing.

" _Oh_ ," she sighed, arching toward him. Her hands fumbled toward the waistline of his pants, "I want... I want to touch you..." She hooked her leg around his, arching her hips up toward his. At the feel of her grinding against him, he groaned out loud.

"Don't," he managed in a strangled voice, "I... can't...," he rocked against her, just once, and then grit his teeth.

Nodding slowly, Usagi straightened up, letting a sliver of space come between them again. "Right," she mumbled. Public place, no condom, just met again after two years... Besides which, using sex to ignore the necessity of talking wasn't... probably wasn't... exactly the right thing to do. Despite the temptation. "Sorry."

Mamoru put his palms against the trunk of a tree, shutting his eyes and trying to steady his breathing. Usagi leaned next to him, watching him with luminous eyes.

"Do you remember why you started?"

"Huh?"

"Why you were Tuxedo Kamen. Why you wanted the rainbow crystals in the first place."

He paused thoughtfully, straightening up and facing her. "It sort of happened without my knowledge," he said. "I didn't even realize I was transforming until ... until it'd been going on for a while."

"But you consciously continued, after that," Usagi said. "I want to know if you remember why."

"To protect you," he said. "To reveal the mystery of the princess who'd been haunting me since... well, forever."

"That's flattering, but it's not what you told me once," she said, her expression serious. "You were trying to find your past. The one you lost."

He sighed and leaned his head back on the tree, looking up at the sky. The conversation was coming back to him through a haze of memory. When he told first Usagi about his parents, about the missing six years of his life... it was right before she told him he wasn't the worst person in her world anymore. Right before she almost died... before...

"Anyway, you didn't," she said. "Find it, I mean."

"That's okay," he murmured after a moment. "I didn't really know what I was looking for, I just figured I'd know when I found it." He paused. "Incidentally, I was right."

"And then you lost it again," Usagi said. "All your memories, everything you worked for, everything you _suffered_ for. Gone. Like it never happened." He looked like he might respond but she shook her head, indicating it was important she finish. "I told myself it was for the best, that you should live a happy life, a normal life, but I was stupid and selfish and couldn't stay away from you." Her lips pulled down slightly for a moment. "I never could stay away from you," she murmured, almost to herself.

"Usagi-"

"It was me," she said, looking up at him. "It was my fault. I took them. Your memories. It was _my_ wish, _my_ crystal, _my_ power."

"I don't understand."

"I don't know why, what I wanted, what sort of dying wish it was that would undo everything that'd happened. Maybe I was trying to be selfless, to give us all what we never got - normalcy, happiness, I don't know. The point is, I stole your memories from you, but still never left you alone, and... then before you left I showed up at your place and brought this all to the surface and I shouldn't have, I... this is all my fault, okay? All of it."

"You really think I hadn't thought of you before that night we... did you really think I would've done that if I hadn't-"

"It doesn't matter," Usagi said, and the tears were coming before she could stop them. "The point is, it was my fault you didn't remember in the first place. Mamoru, don't you understand? There hasn't been a single lifetime that I've been good for you."

"Usagi, listen to me-"

But she didn't. She couldn't.

Usagi didn't even remember running back to the mansion, except that suddenly she was curled in the backseat of the catering van, sobbing her eyes out while Makoto looked on in concern. After that, she must've have fallen asleep sometime during the ride back, because she didn't remember getting home that night.

* * *

 **Two days later**

Usagi let herself fall backward onto the pile of decorative pillows on Rei's bedroom floor. "Did I make a terrible mistake running away like that?" she wondered out loud.

"For the last time, _yes_ ," Rei confirmed, turning a page in her manga.

"Yup, totally," Minako agreed. She was attempting to balance a pencil on one finger, ignoring the workbook open on her lap.

Usagi groaned, and turned toward Makoto who just said, "You know how I feel about it."

"Ami?" Usagi sat up on her elbows and regarded her most level-headed friend.

Putting down her pencil, Ami looked up from her notebook and sighed. "It's not... what I would have suggested you do."

"But- UGH!" She threw a pillow in the air and attempted to catch it, it just landed on her face. "What do I _do_?!" She deeply regretted just leaving Mamoru without even giving him a chance to talk. It'd just been so overwhelming, to have him back so unexpectedly, to have to admit to him that his memory loss was her fault... she couldn't stay and hear him say he didn't forgive her.

"Just call him," Makoto suggested. "You have his number."

Usagi pouted. "I keeping getting his answering machine," she mumbled. "I mean, what am I gonna say into his answering machine?"

"'Hi, Mamoru, this is Usagi. I'd leave my number, but I don't know it, because I never call myself. Tee hee,'" Rei said, in a high-pitched voice that was obviously supposed to be a (rather unflattering) impression of Usagi.

" _Once_. I forgot my number _once_ ," Usagi muttered. "And it's true, I _don't_ call myself."

"Just call him, Usagi," Minako said, rolling her eyers.

Usagi pulled the pillow over her face again. "So easy for you to say."

But that evening, she did pick up the phone, and with shaking fingers, she dialed the number on the card Makoto gave her. His answering machine clicked on and she rolled her eyes. He must be screening his calls. 'What if he's screening because he doesn't want to hear from me?' the thought almost made her slam the phone down but then the machine beeped and she found herself talking - imagining Rei's angry face if she chickened out again.

"H-hi, Mamoru. It's me. Uh, Usagi. From... uh, well you know. Anyway. I don't know if you hate me now or not but I thought maybe I'd go to the Furuhata's cafe tomorrow evening and... if you wanted to talk... even clear the air... or... anyway, I'll be there." She gave a time and left her number just in case.

Then she picked up the phone and dialed a familiar number very quickly. "Mina-P it's me, I need moral suppoooorrrrtttt..."

* * *

She almost changed her mind four times, and only Minako's not-so-gentle shove through the doors got her into the fruits parlor in the first place. When she saw Mamoru sitting at a booth, reading a book with a mug of coffee in front of him, she almost turned and ran out again but Minako's glare kept her in line.

Usagi walked to where he sat, standing next to the booth for a moment, hands nervously twisting in her skirt.

"You're wrong you know," Mamoru said, not looking up. He turned a page.

Usagi's eyes widened. "About what?"

"I think there was one lifetime we were happy." He still didn't look up, his voice was light, nonchalant. Usagi glanced around, frowned. "I think it was Meiji era," he continued. "We had an umbrella shop. Lived behind the store. It was uneventful. Nice."

He looked up then, his eyes light and a small smile tugging on his mouth. "Then again, I was reading a history book before bed that night, so that could've just been a regular dream."

"Do you hate me?" she blurted out.

Usagi had to give him some credit for at least attempting to swallow his laugh. "No," he said.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, pretty sure." He gave her one of his sarcastic smiles and she couldn't help giving a small smile in return. "I don't blame you, Usagi," he said, seriously. "Not for any of it. Not for a second."

Then, "Are you hungry?" he asked and she pursed her lips.

"I think you know me well enough to know the answer to that," she said, sliding into the booth across from him.

Two burgers and ice cream sundaes later, they were still deep in conversation, laughing between bites. "So, you remember posing for that painting for Yumemi?"

"Not really," he admitted. "Although I saw the painting on the internet. It's beautiful."

" _I_ look good, you look okay," she said, gesturing with her spoon. "You were such a grump that entire time."

"I'm sure I was perfectly lovely company -"

"No, you were so on edge and borderline rude! I was, frankly, quite embarrassed for you."

"And I'm sure you were a ray of sunshine."

"I was!" She grinned, "See, you do remember."

He smirked.

Eventually, conversation slowly faded away and Usagi looked outside at the rapidly darkening sky. "I guess... we should go. You probably have things to do."

"Yeah, turns out medical school is a lot of work," Mamoru said, with a fake surprised shrug. "Who knew?"

Usagi smiled, and lowered her head for a moment. "Too much work to handle dating, I guess?"

"I didn't say that."

She looked into her empty ice cream bowl, stirring it slightly.

"I know we sort of went about this all backwards and mixed up," Mamoru said. "I can understand if you don't want to be serious right away, and want to see where this goes. We don't have to jump right into anything physical, either. We can take it as slowly as you want."

"Um...," Usagi bit her lip for a moment, trying and failing to keep her lips from pulling into a sheepish, almost apologetic, smile. Color rose up on her cheeks, but she still met his eyes. "Do... do we _have_ to take it slow?"

For a moment they just looked at each other, then Mamoru looked over at the cashier stand. "Check please," he said.

* * *

They made it through the door. Barely.

They hadn't even gotten their shoes off, still in the alcove by the door, before they were somehow already kissing passionately. Usagi struggled to kick off her flats and step backward onto the carpet, and then stumbled, hitting the wall with a loud thunk.

"Sorry," Mamoru gasped and she just shook her head, pulling him down for another kiss. She was working on unbuttoning his shirt, which was difficult for her unpracticed fingers in the dark room, with the dizzying distraction of his mouth, sucking gently on the junction between her neck and shoulder. His hands slid their way under her shirt, lifting it up. Then he was skimming her sides with his palms, luxuriating in the satin feel of her skin. She wiggled her arms out and he pulled her shirt up over her head, where it fell unceremoniously to the floor.

"Usagi-" he managed to say, catching his breath as she finally succeeded in opening his shirt, her hands freely running along his stomach and back.

She pulled back, looking at him in the dim light. "Changing your mind?" she whispered.

"No, no, oh, god, Usagi, no..." he murmured, peppering her face with kisses, slipping his hand along the soft material of her bra. "It's just... " He seemed to lose his train of thought as his fingers clenched gently around the mound of her breast, his thumb brushing over her nipple through the fabric. "I want to make sure you are... sure..."

She reached around back to unhook the band, and then her bra was discarded too. "I'm sure," she said, bracing herself against the wall, letting her head fall back as he dropped his mouth to her breasts. The gentle suction of his mouth and tongue on her made her gasp and sigh, as she ran her fingers through his hair.

It'd been so long without him, and his touch was sending her into throes of heat already, the ache between her legs becoming almost unbearable. Usagi hitched up her leg against his, letting her body ride slightly against his thigh, mewling softly at the delicious friction and how _good_ it felt how much she _needed_... He let out a strangled moan, and then he was frantically pulling at his belt, the zipper of his pants, and she was shimming out of her skirt with one hand, the other reaching out to stroke along his length.

"Hmmm," she murmured, "I want to...," her hand pulled along him, giggling softly at the strangled gasp he let escape at her touch. She knelt down, brushing her lips against his stomach in the lightest of butterfly kisses, slowly... slowly... Finally she brought her mouth against his tip, brushing her tongue against him - just slightly - and he moaned, involuntarily rocking toward her.

Usagi wasn't too educated in technique, but her inexperience hadn't seemed to bother him the last time, so she decided not to be shy. She took him into her mouth slowly, humming slightly against him, fingers exploring the area with gentle probing, circular motions. She reveled the taste of him, the feel of him responding to her every gentle movement with shaking desire. He shut his eyes, one hand braced against the wall while the other tangled through her hair as she drove him crazy with the slick heat of her mouth, the gentle suction and movement of her tongue. He dropped his hand from her hair, reaching down to barely grasp at her breast, the soft flesh...

 _Oh god..._ He let out a throaty, loud moan and she giggled _god help him she giggled_ around him and he curled his hands into fists, fighting the waves of desire and the urge to push himself further toward her.

Instead, he pulled back, and said in a strangled voice, "I don't know how much longer... I can... Usagi, it's been so long I can't..."  
He sank down to his knees beside her, and somehow he'd gotten a condom from his pocket ('Way to be prepared, Mr. We-Can-Go-As-Slow-As-You-Want,' Usagi thought, amused). "I don't know how long I'll last," he admitted, hands shaking slightly as he put it on.

Usagi giggled, softly, brushing her fingertips along his arms. "Don't worry, it's been a while for me too... " she reached for him, falling back slowly onto the carpeted floor, and positioning herself as best she could beneath him. She was beyond ready for him, having been utterly turned on since the first kiss at the doorway.

With one hand, she guided him toward her, arching her back and moaning softly at how amazing it felt when he entered her. One of his hands moved between her legs, his thumb touching her right _there_ while his other hand grasped her backside, guiding her movements as they moved together. Each thrust brought his name from her mouth with more intensity. She ran her hands down his back, through his hair, bit her lip against crying out as the pleasure built and built with every movement.

Then, he moaned her name, body tensing and relaxing as he came, amid mumbled apologizes for the quickness of it all. But his hand was still down there, his fingers moving as she arched up again, and she was _so close_ and oh oh _OH_ "Don't stop don't stop don't..." and then it came on so quickly, the fireworks breaking behind her eyes and she gasped and twisted and moaned his name as he smiled into her neck.

"Oh my god, I missed you," Usagi murmured, and tightened her legs around him, keeping them together for a few moments longer, running her fingers through his hair.

"Well, you said we could see where this goes," she said, a few minutes later, "I think the answer is: exactly three feet inside the apartment."

His laughter was warm and comforting next to her. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "We have lots of time to improve our record," he said, mouth drifting down her neck.

Usagi smiled, snuggled up to him, not giving half a thought to retrieving her clothing or even moving off the floor.

 _Time._ That certainly did sound wonderful.

* * *

 **Some Time Later**

"...And that's the story of how I, Minako Aino, came up with the so-called Operation Fuck Mamoru's Memories Ba-"

"MINAKO."

"What?" She lowered her empty glass and looked around at the girls in the booth. "Not a good wedding toast?"

"NO," Rei said, eyebrow twitching slightly.

Minako sighed, leaning back in the booth. "Back to the drawing board I guess," she said, crossing some words off the pad of paper in front of her. "I still maintain it was a good mission name," she muttered, to the eye rolls of the three girls with her. "But I guess it isn't a good wedding toast," she conceded, nodding in agreement with herself. "Better save it for a bedtime story when I babysit for them after they have kids."

"MINAKO. NO."

But she just grinned.


End file.
